


Drift off

by Mystrothedefender



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: The Telltale Series (Video Game)
Genre: Childhood Trauma, Fluff, Insomnia, Young Bruce, Young Bruce Wayne
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:47:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26048263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mystrothedefender/pseuds/Mystrothedefender
Summary: After Bruce's parents are murdered Bruce finds it impossible to sleep. Alfred cannot stand seeing him suffer.
Relationships: Alfred Pennyworth & Bruce Wayne
Comments: 6
Kudos: 44





	Drift off

Alfred sat in the lounge, frowning softly. It was almost 1am, and master Bruce had been put to bed more than 4 hours ago, but he knew the boy wasn’t asleep.

The tv was on, blaring at full volume, Alfred could hear it rooms away. Some informative tv documentary about how to tune a piano, the sort of show you could only find at 1am on a Tuesday night.

It had been weeks.

Weeks he’d been watching that poor boy suffer.

Bruce would stay up for days in a row, until he became delirious, until he literally couldn’t keep himself awake, until what he said made no sense and his movements uncoordinated.

The constant therapy didn’t seem to be helping, and his grades at school were suffering severely, although that was expected after the trauma and loss he’d experienced.

Alfred had no idea what to do. He found it hard to sleep while he knew Bruce couldn’t, and that certainly wasn’t helping him come up with ideas.

For a few more minutes he listened to the tv through the wall, his stomach twisting with discomfort, straining to think of ways to help him.

He clapped his hands on the arms on the sofa before forcing himself to stand up. He didn’t know exactly what he was going to do, but he had to do something, he couldn’t let that boy go through this alone, he couldn’t let him sit in there by himself.

The sound of the tv grew louder as he approached, by the time he got to the door of Bruce’s bedroom it was loud enough to hurt.

He knocked on the door, not sure if Bruce would hear it over the tv.

After a moment he decided he hadn’t, and he pushed the door open.

Bruce stared at him from the bed, wide eyed with fear.

“Alfred!” the boy yelped.

Alfred felt his heart sink at his tone.

“Turn the television down, master Bruce,” he instructed. Bruce obliged. “I knocked, but you didn’t hear me over it.” Alfred began to walk into the room, a soft frown on his face. “Why do you have it so loud, sir?”

Bruce glanced at the tv, and then at Alfred. Alfred could see the cogs turning in his sleep-deprived brain, he was trying to come up with an excuse, or perhaps find words which made sense.

“I…” Bruce said hesitantly. His sentence trailed off, although Alfred wasn’t sure if that was because he couldn’t think of anything to say, or had forgotten he what he was trying to say.

“Sir?” Alfred pushed. Walking to the edge of Bruce’s bed and sitting down. “It’s 1am, and you have your tutor coming tomorrow, you should really be asleep.”

Bruce shook his head in that oddly forceful way stubborn children do. “No,” he whined, his voice almost cracking.

“Bruce,” Alfred cooed at his upset, moving closer to him and reaching out to pat his knee, something he usually did to comfort him. “Is there a reason you don’t want to sleep?”

Bruce let out another whine, shying away from both Alfred’s touch and his question.

Alfred sat, looking at him, frowning softly. He wished he could help him. He had been such a confident and playful young man. All that had changed now. He was so scared and anxious, afraid of leaving the house.

“… What if he comes back..?” Bruce squeaked after a moment of silence.

“Who?” Alfred asked. Part of him already knew the answer, although he hoped he was wrong.

“The man who killed them,” Bruce said, his voice cracking again as tears began to involuntarily pour down his face.

Alfred felt his gut clench. He shook his head quickly, “He won’t, Bruce.”

“How do you know?!” Bruce snapped, his voice suddenly loud and angry. “They haven’t caught him! He could just come in here and kill us too!”

Alfred shook his head, “Master Bruce, no,” he said forcefully. “He wouldn’t dare.”

“How do you know that?”

Alfred smiled, an idea coming to him, finally, “Well, master Bruce, he knows that if he did, I would kill him.”

“Kill him?” Bruce asked.

Alfred nodded, “Yes. I used to be in her majesties service, you know, and he knows that. He wouldn’t dare try to hurt you while I’m here.”

Bruce frowned, “You’re sure he knows?”

Alfred nodded, “He does. And the police are looking for him too. He wouldn’t dare come near you, he knows I’d show him what for before he could even look at you.”

Bruce let out a huff, still seeming a little unsure.

Alfred lifted his legs up onto the bed. “You know, master Bruce, I once set a forest on fire to kill one man.”

Bruce frowned, “Really?”

Alfred nodded.

“That’s mean…” he muttered. “You shouldn’t kill people.”

Alfred nodded again, “I know, sir, it is. But sometimes you have to do mean things to protect people you love. And I love you, Bruce.”

Bruce shifted in the bed. “Could you not _kill_ him? Could you just make him go away?”

Alfred hummed for a moment, as if he were thinking. “If that’s what you want, master Bruce. Because you’ve asked me to, I won’t kill him. I’ll just make him go away, I’ll scare him so bad that he never wants to come back.”

“Ok,” Bruce nodded, settling into bed a little, seeming a lot calmer already. He looked over at Alfred, thinking to himself before he spoke. “…Could you stay in here tonight, Alfred? Just… just in case.”

Alfred smiled and nodded, “Of course, sir.”

Bruce settled in bed, and Alfred watched as his breathing turned shallow, he was out like a light.

Alfred watched him for a while, making sure he was well and truly out. Eventually he felt himself begin to drift off too.


End file.
